Listen, Can You Hear Our Story?
by desiringmagic
Summary: Collection of one-shots about Twelve/Clara inspired by songs because I can't control my feelings for these two anymore. Mostly angst. Rating may change. I hope you enjoy!
1. My Fault by Imagine Dragons

**Author's Note:****So I've been having lots of emotions for Twelve/Clara and they've intensified with the recent DW set pictures. So I've finally decided to write down all those little stories concocted in my head whenever I listen to my iPod. These one-shots will usually be less than 1000 words and each one-shot may have different characterizations of Twelve and Clara since we don't know much about their relationship yet. Basically they are in no way ****connected with each other unless explicitly said so (but that probably won't happen). The song title/artist will be the chapter titles and I probably won't be posting the complete lyrics to the songs, just the bits that inspired the story the most. And, of course I recommend you listen to the songs because they're beautiful! So enough rambling and I'll let you get on with it. I hope you like them!**

* * *

><p><em>I took a walk on a Saturday night,<em>_  
><em>_Fog in the air,__  
><em>_Just to make my mind seem clear__  
><em>_Where do I go from here?__  
><em>_I see my breath pushing steam through the air,__  
><em>_Shaking hands run through my hair,__  
><em>_My fears, where do I go from here?_

_Is it my fault, is it my fault?__  
><em>_We've been missing each other,__  
><em>_We've been missing each other.__  
><em>_My fault, is it my fault?__  
><em>_We've been missing each other,__  
><em>_We've been missing each other._

* * *

><p>"<em>Bye, Doctor. See you next Wednesday."<em>

It still pained him the way she threw those words behind her shoulder as if she couldn't care less, letting the Tardis door close on its own behind her and leaving him to stare absently where she had disappeared. He still hoped that she would turn around and give him that beautiful smile, their gazes connecting through the diminishing crack as the door closed between them. Just like she used to do.

It's been this way for a while now. Eight months exactly. Ever since he regenerated…

He took special care to arrive every Wednesday; so far he hadn't missed a single one. The planets they visited were more extravagant that ever. He showed her ice palaces, oceans with glistening purple water that you could walk on, and hoped that with their next adventure she would become closer to him. But that never happened.

Everything was the exact opposite from what it used to be.

Before, she would stay with him no matter what he was doing, and talk with him for hours. Or just keep him company while he tinkered with the Tardis. He never felt lonely.

Now, she spent most of her time in her room, or in the kitchen, or in the library. Any place where he wasn't. And he felt lonelier than ever.

Before, his hand would slip into hers and she would tighten her hold and intertwine their fingers, sending little waves of electricity through him.

Now, he would seek out her hand and she would let him take it. But she wouldn't grip it back. Eventually she would draw it out of his reach to point at something, to scratch her face, to run her fingers through her hair. Any little excuse. There was always an excuse.

He supposed he should just be grateful that she still came along with him. But he couldn't help but miss the old things between them. Especially now as he sat on the cliff's edge, the wind fluttering through his hair and shirt while he absently stared at the green mountains and reminisced.

That cliff had become his sanctuary from the very beginning. No more extra escapades when she was gone. He would drop her off and come to his cliff and wait until the next Wednesday. Sure, he could just pop to the next Wednesday but it felt like cheating. He was determined to hold out these static times to share the spry ones with her. Besides, sometimes he needed the time as much as she wanted it. The only current problem was that with all these recollections, now wasn't one of those times.

The wind picked up its speed and he decided to head back into the Tardis. Checking the time, he realized only 3 days had passed on Earth.

_Still not time to pick her up._ He thought, annoyed. But he wanted to see her. He needed to see her.

After a few seconds of an internal battle, he decided to go for her. It's not like he was breaking some sort of promise, right? He absentmindedly set in the coordinates and held on while the Tardis began to shake for the departure. After the landing, he took to ruffling his clothes a little to make it seem like he had spent time working on his ship than sitting on the edge of a cliff like a hopeless romantic. She would never let him live it down.

Shaking off his coat, he took his time in folding his sleeves up, knowing that she wouldn't show up for a couple of more minutes (her immediate, excited burst through the doors upon his arrival had diminished as well), when suddenly he heard the doors slam open. Jumping in surprise, he turned to see Clara standing in the threshold.

What was more surprising was seeing her attire: pajama bottoms, a short sleeve shirt, and slippers. Her hair was tied in a messy bun and had flecks of… snow? _Why is it snowing in August?_

Her movements brought him back from his thoughts and he watched in shock even as she ran up to him.

"You jerk!" She cried with a wavering voice. "Do you have _any_ idea how worried I was!? I thought you left me again! Or that you died! You idiot!" Punctuating each exclamation with a punch, he flinched and tried to step back but was stopped when she enveloped him in a hard embrace, burying her face in his chest. He stood perfectly still until she slackened her grip and looked up. Tears rolled down her cheeks and he resisted the temptation of wiping them away to look out the still open doors instead.

It was definitely snowing.

"How long have I been gone?" He asked nervously. Her short breaths stopped and were replaced with a weak laugh. Finally letting go of him, she wiped her tears and gave him a small smile.

"Four months. It's December now. Almost Christmas." She shrugged.

"Right." He noticed her staring and fidgeted uncomfortably. Letting out a stronger laugh, she flung her arms around him again.

"I… I missed you." His hearts stopped at those words, realizing that their meaning transcended those four months that he had been gone. At last he allowed himself to hug her back, sinking his face into her hair and letting her warmth and scent overtake him.

"I missed you too."

After what seemed like an eternity, they separated. Handing her his coat, they headed toward her home hand in hand.

And this time, she didn't let go.


	2. Wings by Birdy

_I'm in a foreign state  
>My thoughts they slip away<em>  
><em>My words are leaving me<em>  
><em>They caught an aeroplane<em>  
><em>Because I thought of you<em>  
><em>Just from the thought of you<em>

_Oh lights go down_  
><em>In the moment we're lost and found<em>  
><em>I just wanna be by your side<em>  
><em>If these wings could fly<em>  
><em>Oh damn these walls<em>  
><em>In the moment we're ten feet tall<em>  
><em>And how you told me after it all<em>  
><em>We'd remember tonight<em>  
><em>For the rest of our lives<em>

* * *

><p>He peered up at the darkening sky and watched as storm clouds hovered towards them.<p>

"We better leave now before the weather gets worse. We don't want to get caught in the storm, particularly not with the Tardis so far away. Clara, are you listening?" Turning away from the shop's window, he saw her at the counter, purchasing another piece of chocolate cake. He groaned.

"Clara, why are you getting another piece of cake? You just ate two." How could this woman eat so much?

"Well maybe I want another one. Besides, it's not just for me. I saw you staring at this piece. You want some." She gave him a sly smile as she waved the plate in front of his face. Eyeing her, he tried to stop himself from smiling. The piece did look good.

"Fine, but we'll eat as we head back to the Tardis. C'mon, put on your coat, it's windy outside." He held out her coat; but instead of doing as he said, she sat herself down at their previous table next to the window and patted the space across from her. He didn't budge so she pouted in response.

"Please? It's still slightly sunny outside; we've got plenty of time. So stop worrying about getting that silver little head of yours wet and come get some cake before I eat it all - because it's really good." She added while putting another forkful in her mouth. Finally giving in, he hung her coat back over the free chair, adding his as well, and sat down. She handed him the fork and smiled upon seeing his satisfaction.

They continued to eat little by little and silence settled. Soon the sunlight disappeared and the Doctor watched as the clouds' reflection glided across Clara's face while she stared out the window and into the little ancient town. The clouds folded on themselves and delved into every rare crease of her young face, and he watched in awe, amazed that something so simple could make her seem so at peace, so beautiful.

Suddenly, thunder roared and rain began to pour heavily onto the town, falling almost like a waterfall. Looking on in slight bewilderment, Clara looked to the Doctor, who was staring at her in a mixture of anger and annoyance, and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Put on your coat. We're leaving." He said dryly, standing up to put his coat on.

"_Now_?"

"Yes, _now_."

"Can't we just wait it out?" She complained.

"No. A storm this strong will take hours to stop. Let's go." He replied in the voice she had grown to know very well. It was the voice he used when he was beyond negotiation. She always felt like a little kid that was being chastised whenever he used it with her.

"Alright, _dad_." Throwing away the plate and fork, she put on her coat and followed him out the shop. The rain poured on her, causing her hair to quickly become soaking wet. She was about to run after the Doctor, who was already a few feet away, when a closer look at the falling water made her stop in her tracks.

"Yellow? Yellow rain?" She watched, captivated, as the vibrant, yet transparent, yellow drops of rain crashed onto the skin of her hands and ran along her slender fingers. Giggling, she ran further out into the street and started twirling, completely forgetting about the Doctor. _I'm dancing in yellow rain!_

The Doctor continued to walk, pulling up the collar of the coat to further protect himself. He hated getting wet like this.

"Hurry up, Clara. The Tardis is still pretty far off. Clara?" He turned hard when he didn't hear her footsteps behind him. Anger and worry were rapidly replaced with admiration when his eyes settled on her form running and spinning in the distance.

He couldn't stop his breath from catching in his throat as he watched the rain elate her. Her hair, skirt and coat flew around her as she twirled only to cling like skin once she stopped. She looked absolutely stunning.

"Doctor!" She called out, running to catch up to him. "Why didn't you tell me it rained yellow rain? It's absolutely beautiful!"

"Yellow?... Oh! Well, on this planet, there's a harmless chemical in the air that binds with certain emotional receptors in our minds when you're exposed to it after a while and creates a telepathic-like field around you. So when it rains, the atmospheric disturbance allows that same chemical to react with the water and allows you to see the rain in the corresponding color of your current emotion. Technically the water is just as clear as on Earth."

Clara grinned, looking at the rain around her, and he took this moment to truly admire her soaked figure. His hearts fluttered and he stared, mesmerized at the sight of the bright pink drops falling down her face, curving around her cheeks to fall from her chin. Her hair stuck to her face and he wanted nothing more than to touch it and run his hands through the wet, brown locks.

"What color do you see?" There was a smirk on her face and he knew that she knew that he had been staring.

"Um, red. It's entirely red." He said, a little too quickly.

She laughed. "You're still angry with me?"

"Yes." He lied. "Now c'mon before you get a cold."

"Race you back!" She ran off before he could protest. The Doctor couldn't stop himself from smiling and running after her only to slow down once he'd caught up. Shrugging off his coat, he held it over her to protect her as they continued to run down the street, both grinning.

But if he truly had had it his way, he would have watched her dance all night long.

**Author's Note:**** Sorry if that whole chemical-rain thing didn't make sense. Basically you see the color that represents the emotion that you feel.**

**Clara saw yellow, which means joy, intellect, freshness.**

**The Doctor saw (red at first, which is anger) pink, which means love (hehehe)**


	3. On and On and On by Wilco

**Author's Note: First of all, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Seriously you guys. Thank you for following, favoriting, reviewing. I never expected so many so fast. I almost cried. So thank you all very much.**

**This one is pretty angsty. I almost cried while writing it. I REALLY recommend hearing the song (On and On and On by Wilco) while reading cuz its such a beautiful song that goes great with the show in general imo and really sets the mood for this piece. Also, I cut out some lyric stanzas (can you call them that?) between each stanza (?) so they don't appear in this sequence in the song. Just so you guys don't get confused like my sister did.**

* * *

><p><em>Please don't cry<br>We're designed to die  
>Don't deny<em>  
><em>What's inside<em>

_One day we'll disappear_  
><em>Together in a dream<em>  
><em>However short or long<em>  
><em>Our lives are going to be<em>

_Please don't cry_  
><em>This world of words and meanings<em>  
><em>Makes you feel outside<em>  
><em>Something that you feel already<em>  
><em>Deep inside<em>  
><em>You've denied<em>  
><em>Go ahead and cry<em>

_On and on and on_  
><em>We'll stay together, yeah<em>  
><em>On and on and on<em>  
><em>On and on and on<em>

_You and I_  
><em>We'll stay together, yeah<em>  
><em>You and I will try<em>  
><em>To make it better, yeah<em>

* * *

><p>"I'm tired." Her voice was raspy, barely above a whisper, and he had to concentrate hard to hear what she was saying.<p>

"I know."

"Can I sleep now?"

"No."

"But I'm so tired." She mumbled into the pillow. Closing her eyes for a moment, she sighed contently at the immense relief washing over her, sleep only seconds away. The Doctor shook her lightly until her eyes were open again.

"Just one more night, Clara." He tightened his hold on her body, bringing her closer if that was even possible at this point. "Please. Stay awake with me one more night."

"I don't think I'll make it."

"Don't you dare say that. You're going to make it. Just stay awake." He demanded.

She laughed sickly. "You've been repeating that ever since the incident. You and I haven't slept in three days."

"I'm not sleeping because I have to look after you. And you know you can't fall asleep yet. I still haven't found a cure. You know what'll happen if you fall asleep before finding that cure." She nodded weakly.

"If I fall asleep my body will weaken its resistance and the poison will enter my brain and I will die." He flinched at her mechanical tone as she repeated what he had told her a few days ago.

"It's okay, Doctor. I'm not scared. Everybody dies-"

"_Shut up_."

"and I'm no exception to that rule."

"Clara, please-"

"I'm going to die."

"But _not now_. Do you hear me? _Not now_." She smiled but he could see that it was draining her to do so. It was too much work, too much energy that she didn't have anymore. Looking up at him, Clara slowly lifted a shaking hand from under the blanket and cupped his cheek lovingly.

Despite feeling fine without sleeping for months, the incident had taken a huge toll on him, emotionally and physically, to the point where even her thumb moving softly against his unshaved skin was enough to lull him to sleep. Realizing this, he covered her hand with his to stop her, bringing it down to place a gentle kiss on her palm.

Without letting go, he placed her hand firmly against his chest. The feeling of his heartbeats flooded her weakened body with peace.

"Why did you have to save me?" He asked, voice shaking with pain and fury.

"Because I didn't want to see you in so much pain. Because I wanted to be your hero. Because I was born to save you. Because if I hadn't, you would be the one dying right now."

"I would have regenerated." He spat.

"No, you wouldn't have. It would be killing you just as its killing me."

He let out a shaky breath and finally let himself look at her after all this time. His throat constricted; she looked so fragile. Her eyes were bleary and she was pale, so very pale. He knew she wasn't going to last long and he hated himself for failing to save her yet again.

"Please, Doctor. Let me rest. Everything is going to be okay." Her eyes were starting to close and her breathing was slowing down; he could barely feel it against his neck.

Cursing under his breath, he placed a rough kiss into her hair, her forehead, her cheek, and then a slow, lingering one on her lips. Their first kiss; one that felt so right. One that she needed just as much as he did.

"Fine. You can go to sleep. But only for a little while, okay?" His voice broke and he swallowed hard. He felt like he was suffocating, drowning. His whole body trembled in silent agony

"And you have to promise me that you'll wake up. Please, Clara. My Clara. My beautiful Impossible Soufflé Girl. Please promise me that you'll wake up." His breathing was coming in short and hard takes, tears flowing freely down his face and onto her hand and hair.

"I promise." She kissed the hand that was clutching hers harder than ever and buried herself further into him, closing her eyes.

She broke that promise. But he never held it against her.


	4. Teenage Dream (cover) by Boyce Avenue

**Author's**** Note: Remember when I said that these would be less than 1000 words? Yeah, you can throw that out the window. I was trying to limit myself as a writing exercise thing but it's not working. This one is only about 140 words over but still. Not that any of you are affected by that or anything :P Anyways, I'm not really happy with this one. It just kinda fell flat to me. You guys might like it or you might not (if you don't, I wouldn't mind hearing some constructive criticism-not just on this one but the others as well). And thank you for the support!**

* * *

><p><em>I think you're pretty without any makeup on<em>  
><em>I think you're funny when you tell the punch line wrong<em>  
><em>I knew you got me when you let your walls come down<em>  
><em>Down<em>

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_  
><em>The way you turn me on, I can't sleep<em>  
><em>Let's run away and don't ever look back<em>  
><em>Don't ever look back<em>

_My heart stops when you look at me_  
><em>Just one touch, now baby I believe this is real<em>  
><em>So take a chance and don't ever look back<em>  
><em>Don't ever look back<em>

* * *

><p>He knocked on her door twice and waited, slightly worried that she wouldn't answer since it wasn't Wednesday. Recently he had been visiting her more often than usual, telling her that he had gotten the timing wrong when putting in the coordinates. Of course, it was a lie. He just liked spending time her.<p>

"Doctor? You're a little early, you know. It's only Monday."

"I know." He said, leaning against the doorframe. "But I figured, since I was already here, that I might as well come and see if you were up for trip today. So what do you say?" He smirked, knowing that she would accept no matter what.

"Actually, I can't." Or maybe not.

"Why not?" He asked, a little offended that she was dismissing his offer. What could be so important that she would reject the chance to travel with him?

"I'm going out with a friend, who kind of called at the last moment, and I have to get ready."

"A friend? Since when do you have friends besides me?" She scowled and he knew that he made a mistake to say that and decided to quickly change the subject.

"That won't be a problem. Let me remind you that I have a time machine and could easily drop you off after our escapade and in time for your little outing. Now lets go." Extending his hand for her to take, he quickly dropped it when she shook her head.

"I can't, Doctor. I can't really trust you to drop me off in time since you seem to be getting it wrong lately." She teased and he could feel his face flush.

"But I'll tell you what, you can help me decide what to where!" She pulled him in, closing the door, and led him toward her room.

"Why do I have to do this?" She could tell he was annoyed, but that just made this more fun. After sitting him down on her bed, she went to her closet and began picking potential outfits.

"Because I want a man's opinion, and you're a man… sort of. Are you considered a 'man' in your society or is there somethi-"

"Yes, I'm a man." He replied with an exasperated tone. But the topic made him realize something.

"Your friend…"

"Yeah?" She called from the bathroom.

"Is he male?" He could hear her laugh.

"Yeah, he is." _So it's a date_. He gulped and seized the bed sheets in a hard grip, feeling the sudden anger run through him along with… jealousy? What? Why would he feel jealous? It's not like he had any deeper feelings for Clara… right?

"Okay, how about this one?" Clara came out of the bathroom and stood in front of him. She was wearing a charcoal colored dress, that stopped an inch or two above her knees, and her hair pulled into a messy bun. She gave a small twirl and he caught sight of her moderately exposed back. Shaking his head a little, his eyes trailed down and stopped at her legs, her bare, smooth, shapely - _stop_. He cleared his throat and quickly detached his gaze away from her legs, knowing that he had been staring longer than he should have.

"Well?"

"Absolutely not. It's too… too…" He gesticulated at her and then irritably crossed his arms when he couldn't think of anything to critique. She frowned and turned to the full length mirror hanging on the bathroom door.

"I guess you're right. The color's too depressing anyways. Let me try another one." After she locked herself in the bathroom one more, he let out a long, impatient sigh, running his hands down his face. Why did he say no to that dress? She looked beautiful in it! Too beautiful. Maybe that was the thing. _I am not jealous_.

Clara came out again and he gave her a quick once over. This time her hair was down and she was wearing a white sleeveless, buttoned up shirt with a bright red tiered skirt. _That skirt is way too short._

"No." He said immediately.

"Really? I thought it was kind of cute." She looked down at herself.

"If you showed up wearing that short thing on your _date_, he might get the wrong idea."

"It's not a date." She replied. Strangely, he felt immense relief upon hearing this.

"It's not?"

"No. Well, I don't know. I wouldn't mind if it was." She smiled warmly. This only served to infuriate the Doctor even more.

"That's it. Pick whatever you want. I'm leaving." He headed to the door but Clara stopped him.

"Wait! Just one more. Please?" She pouted and rushed back into her bathroom after he reluctantly settled back onto the bed. She was taking longer this time around and he was beginning to get bored.

"Your friend, what's he like?" He had no idea why he was asking this. He just knew he had a burning desire to know.

"He's not like anyone I've ever met. He can be distant, infuriating, angry, but he can also be very sweet, funny, a little over protective but that's okay. And his eyes… I can see everything in his eyes. All the pain he's lived through but also all of the joy and wisdom of thousands of years. He makes me feel safe, no matter where we are. And I know I can always rely on him to make everything better."

The Doctor took slow, calming breaths through his nose, trying to compose himself. _I am not jealous_. It wasn't helping much but he continued to repeated the statement in his head until Clara came out. What he saw made all anger and frustration disappear.

Her hair was delicately arranged back into a bun, but this time a bit of fringe swooped down a side of her forehead. She wore an elegant, deep purple dress with a heart necklace, dark red lipstick and black heels. She gave him a smile and spread her arms out.

"What do you think?" He couldn't get a word out and just continued to stare at her.

"You look amazing." He finally breathed out. She smirked and left the room with him trailing behind.

"So when is this guy coming to pick you up?"

"He's already here."

"What?" Had he missed the knock or something?

She walked up to him and whispered. "You're the guy."

He blinked rapidly, confusion clouded his thoughts. "Wait, so that friend that called at the last moment-"

"Is you."

"So you are coming with me?" She nodded.

"But, then what was the whole point of doing this?" He asked as she pulled him towards the door.

"Let's just say, after all those times you've 'accidentally' visited me earlier than you were supposed to, I wanted to prove my suspicions correct. Which they were."

"What suspicions?"

She only laughed in response.


	5. Say Something by A Great Big World

**Author's Note: hehehehe I bet you guys thought I stopped doing these (or maybe you didn't notice at all, I don't know). It's just that Uni started again last Monday and I hadn't had time to write until today. So, yeah, I'm still writting these, but I just won't be posting as often as before. I hope you like this one.**

* * *

><p><em>Say something, I'm giving up on you<br>I'll be the one, if you want me to  
>Anywhere, I would've followed you<em>  
><em>Say something, I'm giving up on you<em>

_And I am feeling so small_  
><em>It was over my head<em>  
><em>I know nothing at all<em>

_And I will stumble and fall_  
><em>I'm still learning to love<em>  
><em>Just starting to crawl<em>

_Say something, I'm giving up on you_  
><em>I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you<em>  
><em>Anywhere, I would've followed you<em>  
><em>Say something, I'm giving up on you<em>

* * *

><p>The Daleks fired at her while she continued to run for her life. Of course, she wouldn't be in this situation if she hadn't insisted on helping the Doctor instead of staying safely on the Tardis like he had wanted. Well, not 'insisted,' more like yelled and pushed stubbornly until he was fuming and had no other choice but to let her come along. And now here she was, adrenaline pumping through her veins, arms and legs bruised and aching, and looking for the man she was risking her life to help. But despite all of the danger and the risk of dying, she couldn't help but smile to herself.<p>

"Clara!" She stopped in her tracks and turned around to see a battered Doctor running toward her. Her smile of relief at seeing him quickly vanished when she saw the Daleks trailing behind him.

"Don't just stand there! Run! Take a right. Hurry!" Doing as she was told, she resumed running in the direction he told her to. Soon the Tardis came into view, her doors opening. Clara ran inside and soon the Doctor appeared as well, slamming the doors behind him and rushing to the console.

"What do we do now? The Daleks are everywhere!" She yelled while the Daleks began firing onto the Tardis. The Tardis shook, causing the Doctor to swear under his breath.

"I have a plan. But I need to do something else first." The Tardis began shaking as it took off and soon landed. Walking to her purposefully, the Doctor grabbed her hand and roughly pulled her out of the Tardis and into…

Her flat. They were in the living room. Confused at what the Doctor could possibly need to do at her flat, she stared at his pacing form until realization dawned on her.

"No. No! You are _not_ leaving me again!" She turned and made to enter the Tardis when the doors suddenly slammed in her face. Anger boiled inside her as she yanked on the handle, pushing and pulling violently.

"Clara, stop." She turned to him but his back was to her, his hands and fingers twitching erratically at his sides, a trait he showed whenever he was impatient, or in this case, anxious.

"Open your stupid box. Open it _now_!" He didn't budge and she turned back toward the Tardis to try to open the doors again. Frustration flooded her and she began kicking at the doors until she was yanked away. He awkwardly hugged her to him but she was too angry to hug back and pushed herself away from him.

"Let go of me." She spat, tears swimming in her eyes but never falling. She wasn't about to give him the pleasure of seeing her cry so she angrily rubbed her eyes to stop the tears. But it didn't help much.

"Why." It wasn't really a question, but a demand for an answer, her voice hard and accusing. She watched as he sighed and clenched his hands, fixing her with a piercing gaze that unnerved her for a second but she quickly recovered.

"Because I need to stop the Daleks and you're only going to get in the way." She huffed in annoyance.

"This is ridiculous. I can help. You need me."

"I don't need you." He replied darkly. She shook her head angrily at him, knowing what he was trying to do. But she was determined not to let him win, not again. She'd had enough experience with this version of him to know that he always resorted to insults and tried to push her away whenever faced with situations that were too much for him to handle emotionally. She knew he cared about her, which was why she always kept trying to reach for him, to make him open up to her. Because she cared for him just as much.

"You're so frustrating! Why do you always do this? Why do you never let me get closer to you?"

"It's for your own good." He replied and she could see that it was getting harder for him to stay calm.

"For my own good? Doctor, I want to help you."

"No, no, NO! He bellowed, scaring her a little more than she'd like to admit. "I'm not going to let you. Not this time. The only reason I agreed to let you come along earlier was because I thought I could handle the situation. But I can't! It's gotten too out of hand and-and… I've lost so many people already and I'm not going to lose you. Especially not to a Dalek. Not again. I've already risked your life too many times and I'm not about to do it again just so I can watch you _die_!"

He towered over her now, his face so close she could see the anguish and torment blazing in his eyes. She had never seen him like this, so emotionally out of control, so reckless. And it broke her heart. She reached up to caress his cheek but he moved her hand away and took a step back. That single act hurt her more than his 'insults,' but she didn't step down.

"Please, Doctor. Please don't leave me here. Let me help you." His face softened and for a second she thought that he just might let her. But that thought immediately died. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her toward her bedroom.

"No! Doctor, please!" She dug her feet into the carpet, pulling and clawing at his hand to detach herself. Jerking her body, she managed to unbalance him and he almost let her free but he managed to tighten his grip before she could escape. He took hold of her waist and continued to take her to the bedroom, practically carrying her there as she pushed and twisted herself to no avail all the while yelling.

"Stop this! Doctor! Let go of me!" He pushed her into the room where she fell onto the bed. Struggling to get up, she launched herself toward the door but didn't make it before he closed it. Twisting the doorknob, she tried to open the door but knew that he was holding it shut.

"Doctor, open the door! Don't do this! Let me go with you, please! Don't leave me again!" She kept banging the door with her fists when she suddenly heard a whirring sound. The sonic. She stopped thrashing, knowing that there was no point in continuing to try since the sonic would hold the door shut for at least a couple of minutes. Enough time for him to leave.

Everything was quiet for a while, her trembling body weakly propped against the door. It wasn't until her sobs lowered that she heard his choked breathing coming from the other side. He hadn't left yet.

"Doctor," Her voice was feeble and her throat was starting to ache, but she knew he could still hear her. "At least promise me something… _swear_ to me that you're going to come back. _Safe_. Please, Doctor. Just tell me that. Tell me you aren't going to be incredibly _stupid_ and leave me here forever." She waited but there was no answer. She took a breath to make another attempt when she heard his shaky sigh.

"I'm sorry." It was hoarse and barely above a whisper but she could hear it like a shout in her ears and it sent her into shock. The Tardis' sound rang out like a bomb exploding inside her, and she couldn't hold herself up any longer, knees giving out at last. She felt numb, empty, weak, like she didn't matter at all; but that wasn't true. It was the exact opposite. He was doing this _precisely_ because she mattered so much; and for a moment she wished he hadn't cared for her as much as she cared for him. Because that gnawing feeling inside her was right:

He never did come back.


	6. Au Revoir by OneRepublic

**Author's Note:**** I think the song is more about a couple breaking up but staying on good terms. But for this one-shot I wanted to think of it as the couple starting over after getting over a rough patch. I don't know but I hope you like it.**

* * *

><p><em>Today I'm not myself<em>  
><em>And you, you're someone else<em>  
><em>And all these rules don't fit<em>  
><em>And all that starts can quit<em>

_What a peculiar state, we're in_  
><em>What a peculiar state, we're in<em>

_Let's play a game_  
><em>Where all of the lives we lead<em>  
><em>Could change<em>  
><em>Let's play a game<em>  
><em>Where nothing that we can see<em>  
><em>The same<em>

_But we'll find other pieces to the puzzles_  
><em>Slippin' out under the locks<em>  
><em>I could show you how many moves to checkmate right now<em>  
><em>We could take apart this life we're building<em>  
><em>And pack it up inside a box<em>  
><em>All that really matters is we're doing it right now<em>  
><em>Right now<em>

* * *

><p>"I guess I'm silver now." He said, staring at his reflection in the monitor and tugging at the short curls on top of his head. "I suppose it's for the best. Imagine this face with ging-" He turned and paused, realizing that Clara wasn't there with him.<p>

She'd been away for a while. Not away from the Tardis, but away from him.

_"I just need some time to think."_

He didn't refuse her that time, knowing that she needed the space, especially after everything that she'd been through. But he couldn't take that image of her out of his mind. The way she could barely look at him, and when she did her gaze was empty, distant, and with a hint of rejection and anger.

It wasn't her fault but he couldn't help but be a little angry and exasperated at her. After all, everything he had done was to protect her and he wasn't going to apologize for that, for caring. But the least he could do was make sure she was okay, right? The Tardis hummed her approval.

"Alright, I'll go see what I can do. Where is her room anyways?" The lights in the hall behind him began to shine brighter, signaling him to enter. He followed the trail until he came to a dead end. There was only one door.

"Are you sure? This isn't her room. Her room had her name on it." Lights flickered around him.

"I can remember things now and I know for a fact that that is not her room." The lights flickered faster, almost in vexation.

"Okay, okay. I'm going."

Opening the door, he peered inside almost hesitantly and then came in all at once, closing the door behind him. He realized quickly that he was in the astronomy room, a dark room that projected the stars onto the ceiling, almost like there was no roof and you could see the entire universe as the Tardis floated. He looked around for Clara and was about to leave when he noticed some movement among the star's reflections on the floor.

She was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees and chin resting onto of them. He walked silently to her.

"What are you doing here?" She jumped at the sound of his voice and quickly stood up, wiping her face.

"I was…" She cleared her throat. "I was walking around and the Tardis led me here." He nodded and watched as she swayed from one leg to another. The tension between them increased to uncomfortable levels and he knew that she wanted to leave. But what was stopping her he didn't know. Maybe she was hoping for him to leave. But if he left now, when would they ever settle things?

"Mind if I join you?" She stayed silent before sitting down again. He bent down to sit beside her, falling on his backside a little harder than he had anticipated and groaned in pain.

"Still not used to this body." Normally she would have laughed but this time she didn't. She just stayed quiet and stared at the stars on the ceiling. The reflections curved around her face and body and the Doctor found himself mesmerized by the image of the universe being mapped out on her. It was almost like the universe was being personified as her. It was becoming her.

"I'm sorry but could you stop staring at me." She snapped irritably and he felt a little angry at the tone she was using.

"Why?"

"Because it makes me feel uncomfortable." She made to stand up but he grabbed onto her arm to keep her from moving.

"You never had a problem with my staring before."

"That was before you-" She stopped and turned away from him.

"Before I what? Before I changed?" He asked, frustrated. She didn't reply, instead covering her mouth with her free hand to keep a sob from escaping. He sighed. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He loosened his hold on her but didn't fully let go for fear that she would leave.

"Listen, I know you're angry at me and hate me but-"

"I don't hate you." She cut in. "I'm just… I'm so confused." His brow furrowed.

"Confused? About what?" She ran her hand through her hair, closing her eyes tightly and shaking her head slightly.

"I'm so _angry_. I'm angry at _him_ for leaving me after telling me that he wouldn't and I'm angry at _you_ for leaving me after telling me you wouldn't. But then I think that I shouldn't be angry with you because you didn't do it, _he_ did it but then I remember that you're him and I _can_ and _should_ be angry with you. And I miss him but I feel like I shouldn't because you're here. And I'm angry because I feel like he left me again but he didn't because you're right _here_. You're right in front of me but you're not _him_ but at the same time you are! And I'm so confused and angry at _myself_ for feeling this way and-"

She burst into tears, hugging her knees again and hiding behind her hair. She shook violently at the force of her tears and the Doctor didn't know what to do. He had never expected her to explode like that, with so much passion, so much pain. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He took her in his arms and onto his lap, practically crushing her against him tightly so that she couldn't escape if she tried. But she didn't try. She buried herself deeper into his chest, fisting his shirt, and sobbed. He rocked them back and forth, rubbing a hand up and down her back in an attempt to calm her down. The Doctor didn't know how long they stayed that way, but he knew it had to be a considerable amount of time since his legs were falling asleep and he was developing an ache in his lover back. But he didn't let go of her. Eventually she stopped crying, only taking in short breaths. Lifting her face, he brushed away remaining tears and stray hairs.

"Better?" His voice was deliberately low, soothing in the fear that she might start crying again if his voice was anything above a whisper. She nodded and placed her head back against his chest without letting go of his shirt.

"I'm sorry. I know this is hard for you but I'd like for us-I don't know, maybe we could start over. But… I understand if you don't want to stay with me any more." Her head shot up, narrowly missing his chin, and shook vehemently.

"No. I want to stay." She wiped her eyes and returned her gaze to his. "I wouldn't mind starting over."

He smile and she smiled back. It wasn't her usual dimpled grin but for now, it was enough.


	7. Silhouettes, Oblivion

**Author's Note: Two songs for this one since my ipod played them consecutively and it was destiny that they fit so well together :D First one's by Of Monsters and Men, second by M83 (feat. Susanne Sundfør). Sorry for any mistakes.**

* * *

><p><em>It's hard letting go,<br>I'm finally at peace, but it feels wrong,_  
><em>Slow I'm getting up,<em>  
><em>My hands and feet are weaker than before.<em>  
><em>And you are folded on the bed<em>  
><em>Where I rest my head,<em>  
><em>There's nothing I can see,<em>  
><em>Darkness becomes me.<em>

_There's nothing that I'd take back,_  
><em>But it's hard to say there's nothing I regret.<em>  
><em>'Cause when I sing, you shout,<em>  
><em>I breathe out loud,<em>  
><em>You bleed, we crawl like animals,<em>  
><em>But when it's over, I'm still awake<em>

_A thousand silhouettes dancing on my chest,_  
><em>No matter where I sleep, you are haunting me<em>

* * *

><p><em>Breathe in the light<br>I'll stay here in the shadows  
>Waiting for a sign, as the tide grows<em>  
><em>Higher, and higher, and higher<em>

_And when the nights are long_  
><em>All the stars recall your goodbye, your goodbye<em>

_And even now you'll hear me calling_  
><em>You'll hear me calling<em>  
><em>And in your dreams you'll see us falling, falling<em>  
><em>And even now you'll hear me calling<em>  
><em>You'll hear me calling<em>  
><em>And in your dreams you'll see us falling, falling<em>

* * *

><p>It's always so sudden.<p>

_"It's him."_

_"Then what is the point of you?"_

_"The Warrior."_

And it all comes crashing down on him. All at once.

_"This is me, getting out."_

_"Please! Don't make me go back!"_

All of the disappointment. All of the guilt.

_ "The Drums."_

_"So many goodbyes."_

The pain. The anguish.

_"It hurts."_

_ "Raggedy Man, goodbye."_

The frustration. The defeat.

_"The Beast."_

_"With all that power, you might as well be a god."_

_"The Oncoming Storm."_

The rage. The panic. The misery.

_"I can help. Let me help!"_

_ "How lonely you must be."_

_"You are the Destroyer of Worlds!"_

The self-hatred. The self-disgust.

_"Doctor!"_

He wakes with a start, breathing heavy and covered in a layer of sweat. It takes him a while to realize he's in bed, staring up at the dark room. Relaxing a little, he sighs at the feeling of his muscles unclenching, and after regaining some control, he heads to the bathroom, slashing cold water on his face to wake himself up and try to put some distance between him and his thoughts. But as he stares at his reflection, his eyes following the drops of water fall from a silver curl and run down his creased face, he finds that it isn't helping. He's not surprised. This had stopped helping a long time ago.

Those dreams had always been with him. Well, not all of them. Some were older than others and some were brand new, adding to the weight in his mind as he continued to live. He doesn't mind, he knows the dreams were inevitable, especially with everything he's been through. But sometimes the weight becomes a little too heavy.

His fingers brush against the cold wall of the Tardis as he starts to walk down the corridor, letting himself be guided; by what he doesn't know. Maybe the Tardis, or maybe his subconscious. He just knows that it helps. Helps with what? He doesn't know that either, it just does. It had become some kind of routine every time he had the dreams. Every single one of his bodies had done it; he would walk around the halls, aimless walking to pass the time and allow the thoughts to subside. There was never a destination. At least that was how it was before she had jumped into his timestream.

The corridor in front of him suddenly changes. Those dreams composed of memories appear like flashes before his eyes, changing so rapidly he can barely keep up. They're the same ones as always only they feel different because this time he knows she's there. Clara. She had always been there but now he's more aware of it than ever. Before she was just a blurry face he passed by, someone he would get a glimpse of but never had the time to truly acknowledge. Or maybe a random casualty, a poor girl he had failed to save, another body amongst a sea of corpses.

But ever since she took that jump, he saw her everywhere. Truly saw her. Suddenly, that faceless girl becomes very real. And she's here and there. He can see her in the corner of his eye: running, crying, fighting, dying. She's screaming and the sound pierces his very being, making him cringe and shiver. He can see her battered and bloodied body struggling to stay alive, crawling and dragging herself towards him.

Dread rushes through him like lightening and he yells and screams in his head, commanding himself to turn and catch her, save her. But he never does, that's the worst part. And it pains him to know that he'd never bothered to help her then. That's why her room is always the destination now; and when he finally comes out of his daze, heart races, hands trembling a bit, he finds himself standing in her doorway, clutching onto the door handle and eyes set on her sleeping form. Another sigh escapes his now dry lips. _Safe_.

Closing his eyes, he allows relief to wash over him completely only to be interrupted by a soft creaking.

Opening his eyes, he sees her stir and open one eye lazily to look at him.

"Again?"

He nods and she gives him a small smile, causing him to remember the first time he had entered her room after having the dreams. When in the previous body, he had never allowed himself the liberty to enter her room. He was far too embarrassed and didn't want to bother her with his problems, so he had only peeked inside and then scurried away. No, the first time he had entered was in this body. He could still recall her bewildered expression at seeing him sitting on her bed, clutching her arms and crushing her to him to make sure she was still real. Now it's second nature to them and she barely even takes any notice.

Pulling back the blankets, she shifts a bit closer to the wall to give him more room. He slides in next to her, lying on his back and arm stretched out to invite her in like always. Clara gladly takes the invitation and settles into the crook of his arm, draping the blankets up to his stomach and leaving her arm there as well.

Everything's quiet for a while.

"You should get a new mattress. This one's a little lum-" She cuts him off by pressing a finger to his lips. When she thinks that he has the message, she removes her finger and drops her hand back over his chest. He moves slightly to try to get more comfortable and takes to looking around her room.

"I don't really like the design on the wallpaper. You sho-" This time she unceremoniously drops her whole hand over his mouth and groans in irritation.

"Doctor, sleep. Now." Smiling at her slurs, he takes a hold of her hand and presses a kiss to her palm before intertwining their fingers. She emits a hum of approval and shifts closer against him.

He can't fall back to sleep, but at least he's able to find some peace.


	8. You Could be Happy by Snow Patrol

**Author's Note:**** This one's a sequel to the 'Say Something' one-shot (ch 5). It's really short since I wrote it 30 minutes before class and didn't bother to edit/proofread because I wanted to upload something since I hadn't done so in a long time. Sorry if there's any mistakes or if it sucks in general.**

* * *

><p><em>You could be happy and I won't know<br>But you weren't happy the day I watched you go_

_And all the things that I wished I had not said_  
><em>Are played in loops till it's madness in my head<em>

_You could be happy, I hope you are_  
><em>You made me happier than I'd been by far<em>

_Somehow everything I own smells of you_  
><em>And for the tiniest moment it's all not true<em>

_More than anything I want to see you, girl_  
><em>Take a glorious bite out of the whole world<em>

* * *

><p>He had won. Of course he'd won. He always does. Those Daleks could never stand a chance against <em>The Doctor<em>. He'd saved the day again. It was just another victory for him to add under his belt. So… why didn't it feel like one?

He entered the Tardis with a heavy heart, closing the doors behind him, the soft thud echoed loudly into the room. The console lit up, illuminating the surrounding walls with soft shades of green and blue that usually had him grinning with excitement. But not this time. He looked around, brushing his fingers over the various buttons and waited.

Silence. That was it; _that_ was the problem.

His throat constricted at the thought as he suddenly remembered the reason for his distress despite having won against his biggest enemy: he had sent her away. His beautiful Clara.

The Doctor closed his eyes at the memory of her, letting it consume him, before banishing it. He would not dwell in those memories. It simply wouldn't do to add more regrets to the already overflowing pile, and he wasn't about to regret making a decision that ultimately saved her life.

But as days passed, the silence became too loud and he found himself using her ghost as an escape. She was the only thing he could think about and the memories were so powerful it was almost like she had never left. He would talk and talk and the sound of her laugh bounced against the walls of the Tardis and rang in his ears. He could smell her perfume while walking through the corridors and felt her walking along side him, arm tucked in his and her head resting against his shoulder. Sometimes he swore he could feel her hands running over him, settling in his hair, on his chest, over his hearts; and he felt her lips ghosting over his neck, his cheek, to come lingering on his own, making him shiver.

This was when he knew for sure that it was all in his imagination; and the memories he'd tried so hard to repress came tumbling down, their last moments replaying in his head over and over again: her shouts of anger, her tears, her pleas, the way she threw herself at the door with abandon to get to him. _Damn it_, that was not how their last moments together should have been! He should have told her that she meant _everything_ to him, tell her that she's the most amazing thing that he's ever known. He should have held her tightly in his arms and try to make her understand that he was leaving to protect her, because if she ever died he would lose all purpose in life. He should have kissed her for the first time with a promise of his return. And he would have returned, of course he would have; if things had gone as they should have.

Instead here he was, ashamed over all those last minute mistakes, suffocating in all of the memories of what used to be and fantasies of what could have been. He couldn't go back to her. What would he say? There was nothing to say that could justify what he had done to her. And even if by some miracle she forgave him, was it really right for him to whisk her away and risk her once more? Absolutely not. But he would have made the mistake of doing it anyways and eventually lose her like he loses everyone else.

So as he looked on at the small home, Clara laughing and walking out hand in hand with another man, he maintained his position that he had done the right thing. It was for the better. She was making a life for herself and he was content that he hadn't ruined her like he'd ruined everyone else before. Surely this was his true victory, right?

No. _He_ hadn't won at all.


	9. Breathe Again by Sara Bareilles

***WARNING: RATED M FOR ADULT THEMES AND (a bit of) LANGUAGE***

**Author's Note: I finally finished this! Yay! It's about 5 times longer than the others. It's also angsty. I just love angst okay? I love making myself and others suffer. MWAHAHAHA!  
><strong>

**Yeah so this one's an M. About time huh? I have to warn you though, this is my first time writing a sex scene so I apologize in advance if it's unrealistic or just _really_ bad. Also, I was thinking about writing the next one from The Doctor's point of view. I have some things written down but I'm not sure if I should flesh it out - don't want to bore you guys with the same things. So the question is, would you guys be interested in reading this from his pov? Although, if I do write it, it'll probably take as long to post as this one did (basically around a month). Anyways, I'll leave you alone now. Enjoy!... Or, you know, cry if that works better :P**

* * *

><p><em>Car is parked, bags are packed, but what kind of heart doesn't look back<em>_  
><em>_At the comfortable glow from the porch, the one I will still call yours?__  
><em>_All those words came undone and now I'm not the only one__  
><em>_Facing the ghosts that decide if the fire inside still burns_

_Open up next to you and my secrets become your truth__  
><em>_And the distance between that was sheltering me comes in full view__  
><em>_Hang my head, break my heart built from all I have torn apart__  
><em>_And my burden to bear is a love I can't carry anymore_

_All I have, all I need, he's the air I would kill to breathe__  
><em>_Holds my love in his hands, still I'm searching for something__  
><em>_Out of breath, I am left hoping someday I'll breathe again_

* * *

><p>"Clara." His warm breath fanned out on her face, lips millimeters from hers. The hoarse sound of his voice made a shiver run down to the base of her spine and she fisted a hand in his cardigan to steady herself.<p>

How did she even get herself into this situation? This was not how her departure was supposed to happen. She should have left by now, with dignity and her head held high, escaping from the possibility of further heartbreak. Instead here she was, currently caged between the railing and the very man she was trying to escape from.

Leaving him would've never been considered a possibility if he hadn't forced her to. Well, he didn't tell her to leave exactly. But the situation between them had become too much for her to handle. He had become too reserved, too distant.

At first she had blamed it on his regeneration. He had eyed her with a mix of confusion and indifference, keeping himself at a distance and only looking her way when absolutely necessary – up until he was able to get his bearings and remembered everything about himself and her. Once he'd found stability she'd hoped things would go back to the way they were. But she had obviously hoped for too much.

She knew he would be different but she hadn't realized just how much. He no long held her hand; his were always in his pockets. He still kept his distance, even if it was by an inch or two; but to her it felt like he had built a 60 foot, brick wall between them. And whenever he did touch her, it was always with such delicacy, almost like she was a fragile china doll that he was afraid would break with a simple sweep of his fingertips. It didn't help that he barely talked either. He no longer rambled on about what was on his mind; instead he kept his thoughts locked away from her, only mentioning things whenever they became important.

The Doctor had become a stranger.

He probably didn't mean to make her feel this lost and disconnected; but she couldn't stop herself from doing so, not when the rare brush of his arm against hers made her shiver and crave more of his simple touches, or when his gaze had the power to make her go breathless and make her heart beat faster than ever. How could it be that she would end up falling harder for the one who barely noticed her than for the one who had worshipped the floor she'd walked on?

It seemed that he never noticed what he was doing to her. Part of her was relieved. But a larger part of her suffered from his indifference, because his inattention further assured her that she was completely unimportant to him now; or at least, less important than she used to be. And it felt like he was stabbing a knife into her weak flesh with every one of his dismissals.

But then he had kissed her…

It was after one of their adventures, facing their first real threat together. She'd almost died. It wasn't anything new to her; after all, she'd risked her life for him many times before. It wasn't such a big deal.

Apparently he hadn't shared her opinion on the matter, if anything could be said by the way he'd charged at her, crushing her into him before claiming her lips with his. The kiss was anything but gentle; it was rough, searing, but she welcomed it with all the strength she had left at the moment. His hands, tangled in her hair, were the only things keeping her from falling back from the sheer force of his assault. Their teeth clashed and she swore she could taste a hint of blood amongst the flavor of him. His tongue moved relentlessly against hers, before he broke the kiss to cover her face in smaller ones while chanting incoherent words against her skin as she leaned tiredly into him, clinging onto his ragged form. And for a moment, she felt like she truly mattered again.

She woke up in her room the next morning with no memory of what had happened after the kiss. And even then, the parts she did remember where hazy, almost like a dream. She didn't mention anything about the kiss, hoping that he would be the one to address it and show her that it had meant something to him, show her that it was at least important enough to acknowledge. But he never gave any indication, not even a sheepish glance; and she realized that she didn't know him well enough anymore to be able to tell anything from mere observation about what he was feeling.

He truly was a complete stranger.

After a while, she started to believe that it had been a dream. But then she would doubt that because if she tried hard enough she could still feel his hands in her hair, still taste him as his mouth graced hers. Surely none of this could've been a dream when the sensations had felt (still felt) so real?

Everything became so confusing to her and she started doubting every little detail of their 'relationship'. Had he grabbed her hand because he wanted to feel her close to him? Or was it only to pull her out of the way from an unobservant pedestrian? Did he smile at her because he had liked what she said? Or did he do it as a simple acknowledgment to her statement? Was she still traveling with him because he needed her, wanted her by his side? Or was it to keep from being rude that he had yet to tell her to leave?

Soon her ability to keep up a somewhat cheery façade started faltering. Months passed with these doubts swimming in her head, draining her so badly that people started worrying about her well being. She was still working, eating, surviving. But she grew tired; the spark in her eyes and the dimpled smile disappeared completely, their true essence having disappeared a long time ago.

* * *

><p>"Clara, I'm worried about you." Her dad took her hand in his but she quickly pulled away.<p>

"Dad, I told you, nothing's wrong. I've just not been feeling well lately."

"You can't fool me, Clara. I know you better than that." He waited for her to talk and only sighed when she didn't.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with your… gentleman friend, would it?"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. Her father had met this version of the Doctor only briefly, but it was enough for him to constantly question her on whether they were in a relationship or not. Now with her distress becoming more obvious, he had become more persistent on the subject.

"He's not my boyfriend!" She scoffed, a little more forceful than she had meant. Her outburst only served to make it more obvious that the Doctor was at the root of her torment. She crossed her arms, hoping that it would help cover the newly exposed wound she had worked so hard to keep away from her father. It didn't help much for her voice gave her away.

"The Doctor's just a friend."

"You don't seem so convinced about that." He was right. If calling him her boyfriend felt wrong, then calling him her friend felt worse because he was so much more than that. But at the same time, what they had now couldn't be considered any form of intimacy. So what was he?

Her father had left soon after, giving her a kiss and a hug before advising her to 'figure it out before it's too late.' That only angered her even more and she spent the night crying out of fury and frustration for the millionth time. Wasn't that what she'd been trying to do for the past months? But she'd gotten no where and she was starting to see that it was a hopeless case. He didn't love her! He had never loved her! And it was pointless for her to waste her life trying to find something that was obviously not there, wasting her life waiting for something that was never going to happen, waiting for a man who was never going to be hers. No, she couldn't do this any longer.

* * *

><p>"Doctor, I think… It's time for me to go." He nodded<p>

"Okay, then. I'll drop you off 10 min-"

"No, that's not what I mean." He looked up at her standing at the top of the stairs and noticed her small bag and coat beside her feet. She thought she saw something flicker across his face but it was gone instantly, leaving her wondering if she had only imagined it.

"Oh. You mean forever, don't you." She nodded, too afraid to say anything lest her voice betrayed her. He sighed.

"Ok then, if that's what you want." He climbed up the stairs, barely sparing her a glance as he made his way to the console. Clara held onto the railing while the Tardis shook violently before finally settling to a halt. Their usual silence filled the room until he turned to walk toward her. Her heart rate increased with every step he took toward her and she almost exhaled in relief when he stopped a couple of feet away from her.

"There you are, back on Earth. I must confess this was rather… unexpected." He smiled and she could feel herself swaying as she blinked back a sudden wave of tears. W-why was he taking this so lightly? She was leaving! Had she really meant so little to him than she had initially thought that he would look upon her departure with a smile? Not even bothering to ask why she had made the decision to leave? Why wasn't he trying to stop her?! Why wasn't he begging her to stay, telling her that he needed her, loved her?! Couldn't he at least pretend to be a little sad? Her grip on the railing tightened.

"But I guess I couldn't expect you to stay with me forever." His voice said with a tiny laugh, pulling her out of the abyss of her mind and back into the reality of his piercing gaze.

"What?"

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's been absolutely wonderful traveling with you. It's been unforgettable, everything we've seen and done. And I wish you all the best." He extended a hand. "Thank you, Clara Oswald."

She stared at his hand incredulously before letting out a sudden laugh. The Doctor's face changed to confusion, which only made her laugh even harder, disdain slowly seeping in.

"I'm sorry, but is that it? Is that all you have to say to me?" He dropped his hand back to his side.

"What do you mean?" Her jaw practically fell to the floor. He couldn't possibly be serious.

"You cold-hearted bastard."

"I don't under-"

"No, of course you don't. How stupid of me to think you that you ever understood at least a little bit. I'm such an _idiot_! You don't get it and you never did!" Her voice spat venom in his direction and he took a step back looking at her as if she was some kind of monster. She began to shake in outrage, her breathing coming fast and ragged as she felt like her chest was being crushed beyond repair. Hot tears rolled down her face and she quickly swiped them away with disgust before pushing strands of hair out of her face.

This wasn't good. She wasn't supposed to breakdown and expose herself in front of him like this; that was supposed to happen after she left, locked in the safety of her room with a bottle of wine, not under his calculating stare.

"Or who knows, maybe you did and that's why you did everything imaginable to keep me away. Because why would a _god_ like you want some silly human by his side? You always kept me at arm's length, always pushed me away, never even letting me come close enough to know how you like your fucking tea."

"That's not true."

"Who are you trying to fool, Doctor?!" He stayed silent, hands fisted tightly by his sides. He stayed that way for a while before sighing in what seemed to be defeat.

"I did it to protect you." He said sadly, reaching out to touch her, but she flinched away, bitterness seeping into every bone in her body.

"Protect me? Don't lie! I'm not some weak child who needs to be protected from everything in the world. I can take care of myself. And since when do you care anyways? You couldn't give two shits about me!"

"Clara, don't say that."

"It's true! When did you ever go out of your way to show me that you cared? I could've died at any moment and you would've stepped inside your box like always and left me out there to rot without as much as a second glance."

"Stop it!"

"Meanwhile all I've been doing is cry over you, wondering if you loved me like I loved you, torturing myself by coming into this death trap of a box every week, risking my life over and over again for _you_." She pointed a finger at his chest accusingly, shooting knives at him with her glare. He swallowed hard.

"But do you know what the most screwed up part is? That even after every emotionally devastating thing you've put me through, I would still sacrifice myself for you without a second thought. How pathetic is that? I would still die for a man who didn't give a _fuck_ about me."

She knew her words would have an affect on him; that was her aim after all: to throw him off, make him feel guilty, stab the knife into his flesh and twist it, hurt him like he had hurt her. But what he did next was far from anything she had expected.

Like a flash he had her trapped against the railing, the bar digging into her lower back and her chest squeezed against his as he brought his mouth down to meet hers hard, almost painfully so. His hands went directly to her hair, holding her in place while his tongue pushed its way past her lips to glide across hers.

Memories of their first kiss flashed across her mind, making her realize that he had finally given her the answer that she had been craving for for so long. And it scared her; because imagining its reality was one thing and suddenly coming face to face with it was another. How was she supposed to react to something she had craved for but wasn't sure she wanted anymore? Because she was still furious with him, and the thought of pushing him away with a slap to the face crossed her mind. But then he did that thing she had fantasized about countless times where his tongue pressed onto hers before darting back into his mouth, leaving her desperate for more of him. This only made her at greater risk of giving in. But she couldn't give in now.

Distraught, she broke away to try to gain back some control, leaving them both gasping for air. She tried to turn away but his face followed hers closely, making it impossible to place any distance. And she could fell herself caving, that 60 foot wall that she hadn't realized she'd been relying on for protection turning into a pile of ash at her feet as he skimmed his lips along her jaw, down her neck and back up again.

"Clara." His warm breath fanned out on her face, lips millimeters from hers. The hoarse sound of his voice made a shiver run down to the base of her spine and she fisted a hand in his cardigan to steady herself.

"I have to leave." She uttered softly, the words almost not voiced at all in a pitiful last attempt to escape.

"I know." But he didn't step back and only wrapped his arms tighter to pull himself closer to her.

"Let me go. Please let me go." He shook his head.

"I hate that you said that; that I 'couldn't give to shits' about you." He spat the words just as bitterly as she had done, making her wince.

"You said that I've never showed you that I cared and you were right. I never showed because I wanted to protect you from me. But now you're leaving me forever, so I guess I don't have to worry about protecting you anymore, do I? I can be a very selfish man, Clara, especially when I know I'll never get another chance; and this is my last one. So this is me, taking that last chance to show you that I care. Because Clara Oswald, I care more than you'll ever know."

Her eyes locked onto his lips and she could feel herself drifting closer to him, the need to taste him again getting stronger than the need to fight against him and run away. And she knew that he knew this as well, that he could feel it in the way her body was finally beginning to melt against his, her fingers wiggling between the buttons of his shirt in search of bare skin. All she needed was a little more persuasion.

"My impossible girl," He said lowly. She tensed and felt fresh tears spring to her eyes at the sound of the words she hadn't heard him say in so very long, her final defenses crumbling under the weight of them. He nudged his nose against hers and she tore her eyes away from his lips to look up into his.

"Give me this little time left to show you just how much I care." Unable to resist any longer, she nodded and he didn't waste anymore time with flowery words.

The kiss was softer than before, but it still held the same urgency, the same want to claim one another. She pulled his coat off and her fingers immediately began to undo the buttons of his cardigan, stopping only to grasp his shoulders as he lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands went under her dress to grip her thighs tightly and she let out a gasp at the sudden skin to skin contact. He smiled into the kiss and she couldn't help but to smile back as well. Because wasn't this what she had always wanted? To finally be noticed by this inane, pretentious, but wonderful and brilliant man?

Forgetting about his cardigan, Clara moved her hands to his hair, gently tugging the gray curls and running her nails down his scalp to the base of his neck. This combined with a heavy thrust of her hips into his made him moan and he deepened the kiss eagerly.

She was too absorbed in him (the feel of his hands snaking under her shirt, his teeth pulling her ear) to notice that he had been walking them to his room until the mattress pressed against her back and his body pressed itself harder against hers. This time she welcomed the crushing sensation, reveling in it as she arched her body to heighten it further. Soon their movements became frantic, each of them turning desperate to take in more of the other as they rapidly undressed. His clothes were the first to go, her hands going back to work on his cardigan and then his crisp white shirt.

"You wear too many layers." She complained while helping him shrug off the shirt. Swiftly, his hand disappeared under her dress once again and touched her unabashedly through the flimsy material of her already soaked knickers. Her hands paused in an instant and she moaned unreservedly, hips jerking forward to seek for more friction. He smirked.

"And you, barely any." She brought him back down to her, her mouth covering his neck to lick and bite harshly as her nails dug deep into his skin and run down his bare back, leaving trails of red in their wake in her attempt to punish and love him all at once. Because she knew with the way he was touching her, kissing her like he'd never do it again that it meant exactly that. She knew from his previous words and actions that he would never allow her stay with him afterwards. He was too stubborn and proud to give up his moronic attempts at keeping her safely away from him. This would be it. This first would also be their last.

So she was determined to give him everything: her anger, her hate, her sorrow, her love, her adoration. This would be the last thing they would ever do together, their last adventure, and she wanted to make it count.

He flipped them over once he'd somewhat successfully taken off his trousers and pants so that she was on top. Taking the opportunity, she reached down to touch and stroke him, loving the way she was making him gasp and throw his head back into the pillows in euphoria. But just as she was beginning to get bolder, he pushed her hand away and sat up. He proceeded to unzip and help her dispose of her dress, blindly throwing it to the floor once it was off. One hand sought out her breast, kneading and squeezing it while another wound around her waist as she began to gently rock her hips.

Neither of them spoke, both too afraid that any single word would shatter their bliss now that they were so far gone. Instead they used their lips, hands, and shallow breathing to convey to the other the ecstasy of the moment. Small kisses were stolen here and there as she wrapped her arms around his neck to cradle his head against her neck and bring him closer to her still, the instant desire to feel his hearts beating against her chest settling within her.

Their slow rhythm increased in ferocity and she was placed on her back once again. Impatiently, he took off her underwear before settling back between her legs. Their gazes met as he slowly entered her with a throaty moan and he kissed her passionately while waiting for her to adjust, their labored breathing mixing at the feeling of their connection. She felt overwhelmed but complete. And she needed more.

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she moved slightly and he began thrusting in and out of her, finding the perfect rhythm almost immediately. Of course they would, they were perfect for each other and it was ridiculous how long it had taken them to become a mess of moans and panting breaths.

She met every single one of his movements with her own perfectly and she could feel the pressure rapidly build inside her. He nipped hard at her breasts, neck, and collarbone before laving the spots with his tongue while she ran her hands through his hair, further encouraging him to leave the evidence of his presence on her. She could feel him getting close as well, could feel him fighting to hold on a while longer. But 'a while longer' didn't last for either of them.

Her climax hit her in waves of intense pleasure with him not far behind with his own release. Eventually her orgasm subsided and she was left basking in the afterglow, slowly becoming conscious of his lips ghosting over her, whispering hushed sweet nothings against her marked skin. She was too exhausted to make any attempt in deciphering the words so she hugged him closer instead, to which he happily obliged. They soon fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

><p>Clara awoke to the creaking sound of the bed. She turned, catching sight of the red lines going down his back from where her nails had clawed into him and she felt a swell of pride that she had done that to him, that she had marked him as hers like he had done to her. But then she saw his detached demeanor, the frustrated way he button his pants and pull on his shirt and everything from before came rushing back.<p>

She was supposed to leave. After what just happened, she _had_ to leave. What was the point of trying to convince themselves otherwise if what had just happened hadn't been enough to do so? She had given him everything and he was making it perfectly clear that he was still adamant in letting – no, _making_ her leave. If she stayed, they would end up hating each other, her resenting him for closing himself off like before to 'protect her', and him resenting himself for letting her stay.

So they finished getting dressed at a distance and in silence; after all, everything that didn't matter had already been said, and everything that did would never be spoken. He was done before she was and decided to help her with her dress, tenderly moving her shaking hands away from the zipper to pull it up. She closed her eyes at the feeling of his fingers brushing up her back, grateful that he couldn't see her savoring these last few moments, etching them in her memory. She turned to face him, eyes looking at everything in the room but him as she tried to steady her hands.

"Thank you." He simply nodded and followed behind when she walked out to head for the console room. But it didn't show up as fast as it should have and they were forced to walking through the halls in silence. After a few minutes she tensed up; she wanted to get out but instead she was stuck walking through these metal halls with him closely behind like a shadow. She panicked; it felt like the air was beginning to thin out and the walls were closing in on her. Her step increased in speed as she all but ran around the corners, the only sounds coming from the clicking of her heels on the hard floor and her heart hammering in her ears.

"Clara, slow down." His words only made her angrier at the fact that his stupid box was plotting against her yet again. Why couldn't it just _leave her alone_?!

"Clara-"

"JUST LET ME OUT OF THIS STUPID BOX!" As if on command, the console room appeared at the end of the hall and she quickly made her way to it. Picking up her coat, she didn't even bother to finish putting it on before getting her bag and going to the door to finally escape like she should have done months ago.

"Wait… don't leave like this." The Doctor stopped her, grabbing her arm to turn her around. At this point she was too tired to protest his hold on her. Slowly, he settled her bag back down and helped her finish with her coat, holding it as she put her other arm through the sleeve and buttoned it up for her.

"I'm not a child." She said reproachfully. "So stop treating me like one." His smile was sad when she glared up at him.

"I think we both know from what just happened that a 'child' is the last thing I see you as." He bent down and placed a small kiss on her forehead like he used to do in his previous body. Tears swelled in her eyes once more and she pulled him down for a proper kiss, one devoid of any lust and filled with her love for him. They broke the kiss but kept their faces close, her hands caressing his cheeks.

"You'll regret it." She said with a small, pained laugh.

"I always do." Wiping away her tears, he stood straighter, taking her hands in his to kiss each one tenderly.

"Goodbye, my Clara."

"Goodbye Doctor. Promise you'll remember me." His eyes glistened.

"Always." She swallowed hard, bending down to pick up her bag, and walked out of the doors she had gleefully ran through a million times before. The air was cool, but it felt ice cold against her tear-stained cheeks. She walked toward the apartment complex with her head held high, determined not to look back lest she break down and run back to him. Her plan failed of course, but when she did look back, she only caught the remnants of the Tardis as it disappeared from view forever. She was too late… but it was for the best.

Trudging to her flat, she heaved a heavy sigh as she entered, dropping her bag and coat curtly onto the floor. After kicking off her shoes, she went to the bathroom in search of pain killers, the overwhelming headache wasn't about to go away on its own.

She looked at herself in the mirror, not the least bit surprised at her messy, almost morbid, appearance. But that didn't matter right now. The only things that mattered were the marks that peppered her skin across her neck and chest. Bringing a hand up, she tentatively passed a finger over each one, remembering how it had felt to have his mouth peck at her skin while he moved in and out of her. Not being able to hold back any longer, she let all of the pent up tears flow without hesitation. The sobs racked through her body with such force that she could barely keep herself upright and she slid to the floor, arms winding around to hug herself tightly. Soon it got too harder for her to breathe but she didn't even try to control her pain, determined to let it all out once and for all. Well, at least for tonight.

The only hope she had now was that with time it would get easier to breathe and the pain would lessen. But as the sobs continued to torment her entire body, her entire being, she knew without a doubt that while those marks would disappear as quickly as he had, the tears, the feelings, _her_ feelings, never would.


	10. Are You Gonna be My Girl? by Jet

**WARNING: This might be spoilerish if you've been avoiding series 8 filming.**

**Author's Note: ****Just a really quick one! Because Clara/Jenna looks fabulous in that purple suit ;)**

* * *

><p><em>Well, so one, two, three, take my hand and come with me<em>_  
><em>_Because you look so fine__  
><em>_and I really wanna make you mine._

_I say you look so fine__  
><em>_That I really wanna make you mine._

_Oh, four, five, six c'mon and get your kicks__  
><em>_Now you don't need that money__  
><em>_With a face like that, do ya._

_Big black boots,__  
><em>_Long brown hair,__  
><em>_She's so sweet__  
><em>_With her get back stare._

* * *

><p>His fingers pushed buttons absent mindedly as he looked around the room in exasperation. Eyes wandering, he leaned against the console and folded his arms in a huff.<p>

"Hurry up!" He called out, drawing out the last word longer than necessary. His long fingers drummed against his arm as he shifted his balance from one leg to another. How long does it take for this woman to change?

"Clara!"

"I'm coming!" Her voice shouted back at him. Soon enough Clara entered, walking warily toward him as she was directing all of her attention to the thin fabric around her neck. She was dressed in a dark purple suit with a white shirt and the Doctor found himself hungrily taking in every inch of her outfit. His eyes wandered over her body, engraving as much detail as he could into his memory.

He had always found Clara to be very attractive in every outfit she wore, but he realized that this was something else. This was something far more enticing. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was wearing something she normally wouldn't; or maybe it was the way the top of her shirt was undone and slightly disheveled; or the way her tight trousers allowed him to clearly note the absence of any line or crease on her backside, leaving no doubt of what type of underwear she currently had on.

The Doctor knew he shouldn't have been thinking those thoughts, but he couldn't stop his eyes from lingering on her, appreciating the view as she continued to walk around the console. The suit was a perfect fit. Too perfect. Damn.

"Doctor?" He looked up, hoping that she hadn't noticed where his thoughts had run off to.

"What?"

"Why do I have to wear this again? It's so constricting." She complained, picking at her suit sleeves and trousers like a toddler whose mother was her forcing to wear fancy church clothes.

"Because in this time period no one wears skirts or dresses anymore, it's some fashion thing." He added waving has hand impatiently. "If you wore you're usual clothes you would stick out like a sore thumb and it'll just complicate things." _Like that suit is complicating things for me now_. He cleared his throat and frowned at the unexpected and unwelcomed thought. This wasn't good. He had yet to start his investigation and he was already getting distracted. He needed to get to work fast.

"Come on, lets go." The Doctor headed for the Tardis doors but stopped once she pulled him back.

"Wait. At least help me with the tie." She pointed with a look of disgust to the tie hanging limply around her neck. A sudden wave of panic hit him at the prospect.

"I can't tie a tie." He blurted out, mentally kicking himself for giving such a lame excuse but also hoping against hope that she would buy it. By the look on her face it wasn't happening.

"How can't you? You used to wear one all the time."

"Exactly, _used to_. While regeneration gives me some new skills, it sometimes takes away old ones. So I'm sorry, but I can't help you." She raised an eyebrow at him, eyeing him quizzically.

"Well apparently regeneration took away your skill as a liar this time around." He opened his mouth to protest but no words came out. Why did she have to be so difficult?

Groaning to mask his nervousness, he leaned forward closely. _Closer than necessary_, he thought, almost taking a huge step away. But he noticed that his sudden proximity didn't seem to bother her; in fact she was actually lifting her chin higher to grant him better access, so he let it slide.

He swallowed hard, and with somewhat shaking fingers, made to button the top of her shirt, cursing under his breathe when the button wouldn't go through and releasing a sigh of relief when it finally did. He heard her gasp and shiver a little under his touch and his eyes shot up in search of hers. She didn't meet his gaze, and disappointment overtook him at realizing that it had all been a trick of the mind.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He said sharply. He was angry now, furious. It was ridiculous of him to let his mind get carried away with these stupid thoughts. Clara would never shudder with lust from his touches. And he hated that while she was perfectly fine with their closeness, he was quickly becoming a quivering mess from the scent of her perfume and the soft strands of her hair tickling his hands and the fullness of her lips so close to his and – _why won't this damn tie cooperate!_

"This is ridiculous! Finish it yourself, or better yet, just take the damn thing off!" He spat, stepping away from her to clear his mind, or at least try to. Clara looked down at the poorly done tie, fingering it to try and straighten the folds.

"It's not that bad, better than anything I had managed to do with it." The Doctor watched as she checked her reflection in the monitor and unbuttoned the button that had earlier taken him painstaking moments to do.

"There, I'll just keep it like that. Don't want to look dumb with a really loose tie and buttoned collar." She said while adding some final fixing to her hair before walking out of the Tardis.

"So off we go then. Why are you looking at me like that? You're the one who was taking forever with the tie. Hurry up!"

_She's going to be the death of me._


	11. Violet Hill by Coldplay

**Author's Note: I know this song is about rebellion/political protest/etc. but I couldn't help it...**

* * *

><p><em>I took my love down to violet hill<br>There we sat in snow  
>All that time she was silent, still<em>

_Said 'if you love me  
>Won't you let me know?<em>

_If you love me,  
>Won't you let me know?'<em>

* * *

><p>"Why are you headed up here again?" She asks him, cold hand held tightly to his warm one as she trudged happily beside him.<p>

"If I remember correctly, this is your favorite place to visit." He replies while stuffing their intertwined hands into his pocket to try to warm her hand up faster.

"It is indeed, Mr. Smith." She says in a sing-song voice, earning a chuckle from him. "But why are you coming here now?"

"Because it's snowing and I wanted to see you." She wrinkles her nose in an attempt not to smile.

"That doesn't make any sense; you see me everyday."

"Yeah, but up here I get to _see_ you."

"Ah, yes of course, now I understand." She says sarcastically, unable to suppress the laugh bubbling up inside her at his silly ambiguity. She bumps into his shoulder playfully before hugging his arm to try to keep up with his movements. But it's no use and she finds herself clinging desperately onto him, having trouble in even lifting her legs to take the next steps.

"Slow down a bit! I can't keep up."

"Well, I'll have to do something about that." Her look of confusion quickly changes to surprise and she releases a high pitched squeak when he lifts her off her feet. She's as light as a feather and he has to look down at her to make sure whether she's really there. She smiles up at him and gives him a small peck on the lips before leaning her head gently against his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck.

He soon sets her on her feet again and bends down to kiss her but she evades him and lets herself fall back into the pile of snow, landing with a soft 'umf' before laying back and patting the snow beside her.

He huffs in exasperation. "I hate this part. This body isn't exactly easy to move in."

"Stop acting so old and get down here." She tugs on his coat roughly, causing him to fall gracelessly on top of her, barely managing to catch himself before crushing her. Her laugh masks his groans, stopping any anger towards her from coming through. Instead he sits back on his feet, eyeing her cautiously, almost like his very gaze would break her.

"So are you gonna leave me here?"

"That's what you wanted remember?" He says, trying to keep his voice as leveled as possible. "To be covered in snow."

"A blanket of snow!" She says with a giggle, but it's weak and he can see the flash of pain on her face.

He swallows and nods imperceptibly. "A blanket of snow…"

They become silent, her distant eyes focused on the flurry falling softly on top of her while his focus on her frail body being covered by the snow. Slowly, her skin starts to loose its color and her lips begin to crack and turn purple. The snow is starting to pile up on her and he wants nothing more than to push it off, to cradle her to him and kiss her like he used to all those years ago. But he can't. Any effort would be useless anyways.

She turns her head to see him and he shudders at seeing her lifeless gaze. "What is it?"

He doesn't answer.

"You're starting to see me, aren't you?" Her words cut through his tortured thoughts and the wind suddenly picks up out of nowhere, making him wonder if the blizzard around him was always there. He opens his mouth to speak the words he's been aching to say for so long but they never come. Instead he decides to say what he always says and swallows again, flinching a bit at the pain now present in his throat and chest, like every other time they reach this point in their conversation.

"You're not breathing…" She smiles sadly and the ghost of her sweet laugh carries off in the wind as he closes his eyes hard to keep the threatening tears from falling.

"Oh Doctor," Her raw and bruised hand reaches up from her laid position to graze his cheek; but he can't tell the difference between the feel of the cold wind and that of her icy hand. He stands and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he starts to make his way back down the path he's taken a million times before, only to quickly take them out again to hug himself.

"_You always seem to forget…_" He marks the surmounting snow with a second pair of steps as he rushes to get back to the Tardis as soon as he possibly can. He only stops once to look back at the last bit of hilltop through teary eyes and illusional memories. Suddenly he feels a small, cool hand grab onto his. He looks down to see Clara gazing up at him and he can't help but smile sadly because he'll never be able to escape.

_I stopped breathing a long time ago._


	12. Whispers by Dave Baxter

**Author's Note:**** This one is really just a bunch of separate bits that i've come up with throughout the series and decided to string together because i can't develop them into the oneshots i had wanted them to be. i kind of like it but i'm scared it might not make sense at all. I tried to make it seem somewhat whole and make it so that it's the doctor's thoughts throughout the series ****but i don't know?**

* * *

><p><em>This one comes and this one goes<br>So here we are across the road  
>In whispers, in whispers<br>You say let it go, let it go home_

_Taking all our time we rode  
>Through the town where we grew old<br>Our stories and pictures  
>Oh, we let them go, let them go home<em>

_Oh, I have seen your beauty grow  
>Where all this fade, you shine and glow<br>Our love will be legend  
>If we let it go, let it go home.<em>

* * *

><p>I don't know who you are.<p>

I don't know who you are but you're the first thing I see and the Tardis is crashing and I barely know who I am and – oh yeah! – my kidneys are the wrong color. It sounds utterly ridiculous but I can feel them, the two barely functioning, reddish-brown masses clinging onto my flesh. Reddish-brown! What an insulting color. How am I expected to save the universe with such pathetic looking organs? No, they're supposed to be _chocolate_ brown… like your eyes.

* * *

><p>"<em>I'm not your boyfriend."<em>

Bury it.

"_I never thought you were."_

Bury it deeper.

"_I never said it was your mistake." _

And deeper. And _deeper_ until it's fifty miles inside my soul and there's no way it can crawl out. Let it claw at the edges of the pit. Let it bleed until it has no choice but to curl into itself and starve and die and wither away into dust – I cannot – _I will NOT – feel this way! _

It was a mistake. It was _his_ mistake and I am him so it was _my_ mistake and I _will not_ make it again. I _will not_ hug you back. I _will not_ let your intoxicating scent seep into me. I _will not_ lose myself in the curve of your neck, in the surely soft texture of your skin.

I will, however, curse myself because I've just let it crawl out…

It crawled out.

* * *

><p>You're angry with me. You're furious and you look ready to kill and I try not to flinch as I equal your stare.<p>

You look so beautiful.

* * *

><p>Here, let me give you a flower.<p>

No? Okay, how about a whole bouquet that I got from halfway across the universe. It reminded me of the color of your laugh. Laugh doesn't have a color, you say? Well clearly you haven't heard, or seen, the right one. Maybe I'll show you mine someday.

You laugh. I see the burst of yellow as you tell me mine is bright red.

You accept the flower.

* * *

><p>You're angry with me. You're furious and you look ready to kill.<p>

No wait. That was another time.

This time you look ready to leave.

"I love you." I blurt out, hoping the words that've been burning inside me for years will make you stay.

Too bad you're already gone.

* * *

><p>I shout your name into the wind hoping that it will carry it and every <em>goddamn thing<em> I feel for you away from me. But I make a mistake. I miscalculate and I take a breath.

I can feel you rushing into me, scaring my skin and flooding my senses. You fill my lungs and stain my blood and now you're everywhere. I can feel you coursing through my veins, igniting every nerve on fire, making my fingertips buzz and my hearts clench and _I – can – barely – breathe. _

_Damn it_, why did I have to breathe?

Why did I have to breathe?

* * *

><p>You're back.<p>

_One last hurrah._

You're malfunctioning. I'm malfunctioning. This whole bloody train is malfunctioning but that doesn't matter because you're back. You're in my arms and your name is carved in the sand and still flowing through my veins.

You tell him you love him but that doesn't matter right now because you stay.

* * *

><p>What will I do when I lose you? I don't know. Probably lie and say that it's okay.<p>

* * *

><p>It's not okay.<p>

I can feel myself breaking. I can feel myself withering away and losing everything I thought I was.

I say your name for maybe if I breathe it once more, it'll flood me again and I'll remember what it was like to live. But it hangs in the air like a sigh that was never meant to escape and I remain gasping for the substance that is filled with you.

I wish I had left it in.

* * *

><p>"Who was she?"<p>

I look away.

"She was Clara Oswald. And she is gone now. But that's okay." I choke out a laugh and wonder if it's still that bright shade of red you used to see.

"That's okay."


	13. Bleedin' Out by Imagine Dragons

**Author's Note: It amazes me that it's been almost two years since I started this and over a year since I updated. Rereading some of them made me laugh and cringe so much! But I think I improved a bit. Maybe. I had started this one before some of the others but I could never get it right. After changing almost everything, I finally finished it a couple of weeks ago when I was in Mexico. Maybe the box of paleta payasos that I was devouring had something to do with it.**

* * *

><p><em>I'm bleeding out<br>So if the last thing that I do  
>Is bring you down<br>I'll bleed out for you  
>So I bare my skin<br>And I count my sins  
>And I close my eyes<br>And I take it in  
>And I'm bleeding out<br>I'm bleeding out for you, for you_

* * *

><p>We're running again. Gravel and the flowers you had admired earlier are crushed under our feet – did I tell you that I picked one for you while you weren't looking? Of course I didn't. But I was going to, before everything went to hell, that is. I can practically feel it weighing me down, wilted and lifeless in my pocket. Truth be told, I probably wouldn't have told you even if everything had turned out fine.<p>

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_This is actually what you do? Do you just crook your fingers and people jump in your snog box and fly away?"_

_ "__It is not a snog box!"_

_ "__I'll be the judge of that."_

_ "__Starting when?"_

* * *

><p>I continually blink away the dust and white spots from my vision. People are screaming all around us. Children are crying for their parents, parents who are dead at their children's feet, and I can hear your voice calling me, begging me to stop and help. I ignore you and concentrate on finding the Tardis, wishing I could remember where I left her but that's hard to do when we're being engulfed in heat and smoke and fire and pain – <em>the excruciating pain<em> – and _I'm sorry Clara_… I'm sorry but I can't help them. I have to help you. Save _you_, otherwise there's no point in any of this anymore.

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_To you, I'm a ghost. We're all ghosts to you. We must be nothing."_

_ "__No. No. Not that."_

_ "__Then what are we? What can we possibly be?"_

_ "__You are the only mystery worth solving."_

* * *

><p>You stumble and the increased pain brings me back from my thoughts. I'm suddenly reminded of the deep gash on my shoulder and I can feel the blood running down my arm, seeping into my clothes and into our intertwined hands to settle and mix with yours. The blend of our blood feels blistering and morbid and I hate how it's helping your hand slip away from mine. I tighten my grip and wince when I hear you gasp at the increased pressure on your already bruised flesh. I make a mental note to apologize later and then discard it because I probably won't do it anyways.<p>

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_I need to know if you feel safe. I need to know you're not afraid."_

_ "__Of?"_

_ "__The future. Running away with a spaceman in a box. Anything can happen to you."_

_ "__That's what I'm counting on."_

* * *

><p>The moon and stars no longer illuminate our path. They're frozen in the midst of clouds of smoke and fire with anger in their stance and disappointment in their gaze. Shame creeps into my bones and I keep my head low, avoiding their stares as the fires' light cast crazed shadows that crawl after us, shadows that stumble and twist, that writhe and struggle. They're shaped like us and I wish they weren't.<p>

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Clara. Clara, come up. Come up to me now. You can do it. I know you can."_

_ "__How?"_

_ "__Because it's impossible and you're my impossible girl."_

* * *

><p>I can just barely make out the Tardis next to what use to be a bakery. The bakery; the one you made me promise to take you to before we left. It seems that's another promise I won't be able to keep. I feel light-headed and find myself hoping against hope that you won't notice.<p>

* * *

><p><em>"Look at you. The warrior. The hero… And you."<em>

_ "And what am I?"_

_ "Have you really forgotten?"_

_ "Yes. Maybe, yes."_

_ "We've got enough warriors. Any old idiot can be a hero."_

_ "Then what do I do?"_

_ "What you've always done. Be a doctor."_

* * *

><p>I barely have enough strength to push the rubble aside, and honestly, it's a miracle we make it in before floors of steel and concrete collapse on top of us. Alarms blare, emergency lights flash, and the pain worsens as I rush to move us somewhere far away. Somewhere where the air doesn't smell of flesh and cities aren't crumbling at dead people's feet. Somewhere where the sun is rising and someone's setting their tea to cool. Somewhere where the people are smiling and the sky has yet to look at me with burning contempt. Somewhere <em>safe<em>. I try not to think about how the pain strikes again only to suddenly vanish altogether.

* * *

><p><em>"No! No…"<em>

_ "Hey…"_

_ "Please don't change."_

* * *

><p>The noise of the machines almost drown out your voice when you call for me. I tell you not to speak but you were never one to listen to orders and you start to apologize because you noticed. Your words come out breathy and half-formed and I try to smile to push aside the tightening in my chest that has nothing to do with what happened earlier and everything to do with how beautifully fragile you look. You try to take my hand in yours and I clench my jaw in shock of your cool fingers touching my searing ones. This time I easily ignore the thought of you noticing what is happening to me. I can't for the life of me ignore the slowing beeps that are telling me what is happening to you.<p>

* * *

><p><em>"Thank you."<em>

_ "For what?"_

_ "Phoning."_

* * *

><p>You're quickly taken from my arms without much protest from either of us. I stare at the vast whiteness of the spot where I last saw the remnants of your brown hair and find myself wishing I had more time. Concerned voices and hurried hands surround me, eager to know whether the blood is mine or yours. I tell them I'm not bleeding, not anymore. That doesn't satisfy them but it's enough to let me stumble out and leave you with the people who carry my chosen name. After all, it's been proven time and time again that a Timelord is the last being capable of looking after a human.<p>

* * *

><p><em>"When did you stop believing in everything?"<em>

_ "When did you start believing in impossible heroes?"_

_ "Don't you know?"_

* * *

><p>They're telling stories about us, Clara. Somewhere where the air smells of petrichor and cities are noisy with the sound of breathing people's feet. Somewhere where the moon is setting and someone's sipping their cooled tea. Somewhere where people are laughing and the sky never had a reason to look at me with burning contempt. Somewhere <em>safe<em>. This time, the pain that strikes doesn't vanish altogether.

* * *

><p><em>"So you were just pretending to be heartless?"<em>

_ "Would you like to think that about me? Would that make it easier?"_

* * *

><p>It burns and aches. It aches and burns. I'm gasping. I'm contorting. My hands are shaking and my hearts are exploding. My body's painted in atoms of lead and gold and I'm thinking of you…<p>

And I wonder if you're thinking of me as well.

* * *

><p><em>"You're going to help me?"<em>

_ "Well why wouldn't I help you?"_

_ "Because of what I just did! I just-"_

_ "You betrayed me. You betrayed my trust. You betrayed our friendship. You betrayed everything that I've ever stood for – You let me down!"_

_ "Then why are you helping me?"_

_ "Why? Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?"_

* * *

><p>They're telling stories about us, Clara. They'll say that we were invincible. They'll say that we were incredible. They'll say that we were the monsters in the abyss. But we both know the truth: we simply were.<p>

* * *

><p><em>"Doctor? Traveling with you made me feel really special. Thank you for that. Thank you for making me feel special."<em>

_ "Thank you for exactly the same."_

* * *

><p>It's still burning. It's still aching. I'm heaving. I'm falling. Everything's shaking and everything's exploding. My body's painted in atoms of lead and gold and I'm thinking of you…<p>

And then I'm not.

* * *

><p><em>"No one ever matched up to Danny, eh?"<em>

_ "There was one other man, but that would never have worked out."_

_ "Why not?"_

_ "He was impossible."_


End file.
